Untitled
by best thing since cookies
Summary: Written for the CSI Secret Santa. StellaMac. Mac gets hurt, and Stella blames herself


Stella stood on the roof of the hospital, her breath billowing before her in the freezing New York air. She clutched her winter coat tightly around her and tried to ignore the tears welling in her eyes. She felt completely drained after the day's events.

"Stella?"

So deep in thought, she hadn't even noticed the roof door open. "Hey," she said, turning and giving Mac a bright smile. She grimaced slightly when she saw the sling on his arm. He was hurt because of her.

Mac instantly knew what she was thinking. "Hey. It's not your fault," he said, squeezing her shoulder.

Stella smiled weakly but didn't respond.

Mac sighed. "Are you ready?"

Stella nodded and Mac put his hand on the small of her back as he led her from the roof. The elevator ride was made in silence, Stella lost in her own thoughts and Mac trying to figure out a way to cheer Stella up.

"You want a ride?" Mac asked quietly when they were back in the cold December air.

Stella gave him a withering look. "Seems to me that you're the one that needs a ride, Detective."

Mac glanced down at his injured arm. "So I guess this means that your driving?"

Stella tried to be amused, but she felt awful for everything that had happened that day.

The drive to Mac's apartment was a little tense, but Mac tried to lighten the mood by pointing out all of the Christmas decorations. Stella would smile indulgently, but it was obvious that her thoughts were elsewhere.

She was thinking about the case they had been working on that day and all the events leading up to Mac having to go to the hospital.

There had been a murder at a group home in Queens, and Stella had been called to the crime scene. Mac offered to let her off the case, and thinking back, she wished she had taken him up on it. She hadn't, of course.

The fifteen-year-old boy that had been drowned in the bathtub shared by all the kids in the home had brought forth her compassionate nature. The boy's seventeen-year-old sister had been quiet and solemn, and Stella had been instantly drawn to her.

It had been a huge mistake. All of the evidence pointed to the sister, but Stella just couldn't believe it. She saw too much of herself in the young girl.

When they went to talk to her, to ask some important questions about where she was at the time of death and general questions like that, she had flipped out. Even after she pulled out the gun, Stella was still certain she could talk her down, reach out for the good she saw in the girl.

The girl had her gun to her own head by the time Stella got finished talking to her. Mac had been moving forward, ready to take the girl down and get her the help she needed when she suddenly turned the gun on him.

Stella had had to take her down, but not before the girl got a shot of her own in. It was just a flesh wound on Mac's right arm, but she still felt terrible about it.

"Stel?" Mac said worriedly.

Stella glanced over at him. "Yeah?"

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded and realized she had basically driven on autopilot to his apartment.

"I asked if you wanted to come in for some coffee," Mac repeated, his blue eyes still on her.

Stella immediately nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt. She assumed he wanted help but was too proud to ask for it.

Mac smirked to himself, knowing exactly what Stella was thinking. He quickly wiped the look from his face when Stella turned to him. "You're going to have to…" He held up his keys with his left hand.

Stella felt a sharp stab of guilt. She nodded with a tight smile and accepted the keys.

Mac helped himself out of the car even as Stella was starting around to help him. "Stel, I'm fine," he said firmly.

Stella smiled agreeably and hooked her arm through his good one.

He went along with it, knowing the guilt she felt. He would have to convince her one way or another that his injury wasn't her fault.

……….

Stella stood beside the coffee machine in the kitchen, waiting for the delicious hot drink to finish brewing. Mac was changing into more comfortable clothes while she made the coffee.

Sighing, she leaned her hip against the edge of the counter. Mac's apartment was still mostly the same as it had been before Claire's death, only all of her pictures and trinkets had been taken down. There was a small tree on the corner table in the living room.

It was decorated and there were gifts under it.

Mac usually shied away from celebrating holidays since that was really his and Claire's thing. Since her death, he would usually spend all his time working on cold cases during Christmas. Stella would usually have to drag Mac out for drinks and dinner.

Apparently, he was really trying to move on.

"Uh, Stella?" Mac said.

Stella turned toward the kitchen entrance and almost groaned. Mac was standing there with his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his gloriously naked torso.

"I need a little help," he said. He was determined not to make the situation awkward, but he could tell by the look on her face that it was bound to be at least a little awkward.

The guilt made another appearance, but it was just a minor buzzing in the back of her mind compared to the rush of thoughts going through her head as she carefully took the sling off so she could ease his shirt from his body.

Mac's breath caught in his throat when she moved behind him to carefully pull his shirt from his body. When it was fully off, she let it slide to the floor as her fingers explored the many scars on his back.

Stella realized what she was doing and yanked her hand back as if she'd been burned. "Where's--" She cleared her throat. "Where's the shirt you want to change into?"

Mac glanced down at his good hand, where he was clutching a t-shirt. "I don't think I can get into it," he said, sounding apologetic.

Stella smiled and took the shirt from him. She moved around so she was standing directly in front of him and pulled the shirt over his head. Mindful of the bandage on his arm, she pulled his injured arm through the short sleeve.

Mac successfully covered his wince. It hurt to lift his arm.

Stella grinned triumphantly when she finished putting his shirt on him. "See? Am I good or am I good?"

"Well," Mac said. "I would say…you're good."

Stella picked up the sling.

Mac thought she was just going to let him put it on himself, but she didn't. He stared at her as she helped him into the sling. She looked like she was concentrating, but the way her mouth twitched gave her away.

Stella adjusted the sling accordingly and glanced into Mac's eyes. The intensity scared her and she had to look away. "There," she said, forcing the cheerful note into her voice. "All done."

Mac nodded and politely stepped back to give her a little more space. Stella went to pour them some coffee while he picked up his shirt from the floor to take it into his room.

When Mac walked into the living room, he saw Stella looking at his small movie collection. "Hey," he said quietly.

Stella turned to him with a small smile. "I keep forgetting that you're just a big kid." At his confused look, she held up the DVD she had picked out. "_Sound of Music_?"

Mac smiled sheepishly. "It was Claire's favorite," he said dismissively. "I bought it around Easter."

Stella smiled and put the movie back on the shelf. "So," she said, sitting down and pointing at the coffee she had made for him, "Christmas is in three days."

Mac nodded. It had been a while since he had been excited for the holiday, but everything had changed so much in the past year.

"Any plans?" Stella asked casually.

Mac nodded. "I actually do," he said.

"With Peyton?" Stella asked.

Mac gave her a startled look. "What?"

Stella raised her eyebrows. "I'm a CSI, Mac. I'm paid to be observant."

Mac smiled ruefully. He had thought he had actually been getting past Stella. "No, not with Peyton." He hesitated. "We're…not really together."

Stella nodded, even though she didn't believe him. "Well, I'm happy that you're finally moving on."

Silence enveloped the room. It wasn't exactly an uncomfortable silence, but they could both feel the things that were going unsaid.

"Stella--"

"It's--"

They both laughed. "Go ahead," Mac said.

Stella smiled. "I was going to say that it's okay to be happy. If Peyton is what makes you happy, then you shouldn't hide it and you shouldn't be ashamed." She absently took a sip of her coffee.

Mac watched her intently. It would seem that his subject would have to wait. "It's complicated," he said after a moment of thought.

"Why don't you explain it to me?" she shot back.

Mac sighed. He didn't _want_ to explain it. "When I was with Peyton, I felt like I needed to keep it under wraps, and I hurt her because of it."

Understanding registered. "You felt like you were betraying Claire?" she guessed.

Mac shook his head. "No. There are just some things…some things that seem to be holding me back."

A look passed between them, and Stella felt like she was missing something.

"What were you going to say?" she asked.

"I was going to say that my injury wasn't your fault," he said pointedly.

Stella rolled her eyes. "I know."

"Do you?" Mac countered. "_Do_ you know that the only person that blames you is you?"

Stella glared at him. "Yes, Mac. I realize that you're too good of a guy to place the blame where it lies."

Mac sat forward. "If you were to blame, I wouldn't hesitate to take action. I knew that this case would get to you, and I should have had you pulled off. Sometimes, our emotions get the best of us."

"It's about the evidence, not our personal feelings," Stella argued. "I knew that and I still let it get to me!"

Mac put his palm onto the coffee table's flat surface. "What do you think would have happened if you weren't there? The girl had a gun. She drowned her brother because the burden was too much. She wanted her own life, and she knew she was backed into a corner when we started to question her. The truth is, you probably saved that girl's life as well as mine."

Stella shook her head. "She shot you and I shot her," she pointed out.

"You didn't shoot to kill, and I'll be fine. Face it, Stel. You're my hero."

Stella couldn't help the small smile that appeared on her face when he grinned at her. "Okay, okay. I'm your hero. So, what a_re_ you doing for Christmas?"

Taken aback by the abrupt change of subject, he automatically answered, "Playing Santa Claus."

Stella stared at him before laughing. "I should have known," she teased. "You have always been such a big softy. Who for?"

"At the community center," he said begrudgingly. The proverbial cat was already out of the back so he didn't see the need to lie.

Stella grinned at him. She was pleasantly surprised and guiltily happy that his plans didn't involve Peyton.

"How about a movie?" Mac said. "I have some Christmas movies if you want to…"

"Uh, no," Stella said. "I need to--"

Mac stood up with her and moved in front of her. "Stay," he said softly.

They were standing really close together, and Stella's breath caught in her throat.

Mac looked into her eyes and saw his own feelings mirrored.

Stella's eyes fell shut when she felt his breath, feather-light on her lips. She sighed softly when he pressed his lips softly, hesitantly, against hers.

Mac hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, running his tongue across her lips in hope of deepening the kiss.

Stella wound her arms around his neck and opened her lips to allow him access. They stayed locked in the passionate embrace for several minutes until Stella finally broke the kiss in favor of breathing. "Okay," she whispered.

Mac smiled and kissed her again.

END


End file.
